


Wet&Messy MCU

by Anonymous



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bondage, Consensual Kink, Desperation, Desperation Play, Forced Wetting, M/M, Omorashi, Urination, Watersports, Wetting, peeing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15064205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A collection of one-shots, dribbles, fics, with MCU characters enjoying omorashi, wetting and the like./!\ Watersports! /!\





	1. Loki/Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> So, I might be a dirty bird and have an omorashi kink.  
> I've got a few ideas about other fics, but if you'd like to see some tropes, or some specific characters enjoying this kink, don't hesitate to leave a comment! I'll read them and do what I can to write about them.  
> Just know that I always write consensual sex. Consent is fun :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Sometimes, Tony tended to forget that he was in a kinky relationship with the God of Mischief. And every time he _did_ forget, he promptly regretted it.

As he was doing right now.

 

The night had started out pretty well. A charity gala they both attended, offering Tony the privilege to see Loki clad in an all black suit that highlighted his deliciously sleek body. What tended to be boring and depressing events when he attended them alone had turned into funny nights with dancing and flirting – and some paw greasing too, because the main objective was still to earn money.

The champagne and cocktails had been delicious, too, and so the trip back to the Tower in the limousine was filled with giggles and slightly clumsy kisses. When they arrived in the private garage, Tony's shirt, previously tucked into his pants, was half out and mostly unbuttoned, his carefully brushed hair now completely tousled and his pants all rumpled up where Loki had gripped them in his fists. As usual, Loki was as perfect as he had been at the beginning of the night – but really, that was unfair, the guy was literally a _wizard_ and Tony would have bet he put spells on himself, there was no way his hair would stay so perfect otherwise.

All in all, then, Tony had been completely in the mood to continue their night in a funny way, and so he had been stupid enough to remark ''oh, kinky'' when Loki had gotten him out of his shirt and then tied into a chair.

Except that, after his wrists were tied up behind the back of the chair, he suddenly became aware of a throbbing pressure in his bladder.

 

''Wait, wait,'' he laughed, trying to push Loki back with his feet. ''Just untie me for a couple of seconds, champagne's catching up with me. Gotta pee.''

 

Loki looked up from where he was kneeling, his eyes dark and observant. And then he smirked. And tied one of Tony's ankles, careful and slow.

 

''No, seriously, Loki,'' Tony said, his voice unwillingly becoming whiny, ''promise I'll come back and let you do whatever you want. But I really gotta go.''

''Well, you should have thought of it sooner,'' Loki replied in a low, sultry voice with absolutely no regrets. ''Now it is too late.''

 

He grabbed his other ankle and tied it to the opposite foot of the chair, making it physically impossible for Tony to close his legs against the increasing pressure.

Tony cursed himself and his weak bladder, then; he wasn't a kid anymore, he _knew_ that drinking large amounts in a very short time resulted in him having to pee. But Loki had managed to distract him from what usually was a habit, and so now he had no choice left but convincing his boyfriend to let him go. Which, knowing Loki, would take a _lot_ of effort.

 

''Do you really want me to _beg_? Come on, you know it won't even take me a minute.''

''Oh, you can beg all you want. That is not going to get you of here, though.''

''So what? I need to make you come so you let me piss? What are you, sixteen?''

''That _would_ be a nice thing to do. But no, I would not count too much on it if I were you.''

''What do I need to _do_ , then?'' Tony asked, and this time there was really a touch of desperation in his voice, and he squirmed on the chair as the pressure increased.

 

Loki was watching him like he was completely stupid; like that should have been completely obvious. And suddenly it clicked.

Oh. _Oh_.

For his defense, the conversation dated back to about a month and had been more casual than truly serious. They'd been scrolling through social media, casually laughing about what they found, until something had made their smile disappear. It was a drawing of Loki in his green costume, except the green costume was soaked through… with piss. Looking at Loki's obvious interest, Tony had let out a strangled noise, and elbowed him in the side.

 

''Loki!'' he'd exclaimed, feeling his cheeks turn pink.

''What? I find this quite– interesting, dare I say. Don't you?''

 

And yeah, okay, if there was one thing Tony was pretty proud of, it was his honesty. So he hadn't dared say _yes_ ; rather looked at Loki for a second and closed his eyes in what was basically an admittance.

Now, here he was. Tied to a chair, to the mercy of his boyfriend who _apparently_ wanted him to piss himself.

Sometimes, he wondered at his life choices.

 

''I'm in a suit, honey,'' he tried to argue seriously – though that was kinda undermined by the way his feet were tapping a steady rhythm on the floor. ''No way we could do that when I'm wearing sweatpants?''

''Oh no, I really think this is way more interesting. To me, at least.''

 

Tony gulped at the dark look in his eyes, his fingers twitching around the ropes holding them steady. The thing was, he wasn't sure he would last long. He actually was _pretty sure_ he would not last long enough to make Loki yield.

 

''I hate you.''

''No, you don't.''

''Okay, no I don't, but still. It's an Armani suit.''

''And it'll still be after,'' Loki said with an impressive roll of his eyes. ''Stop being such a diva, Stark.''

 

And after that, he sat down on Tony's knees and put his open palm down _hard_ on his lower stomach. Tony bucked up and instinctively tried to close his legs, to grip at his groin with his hands but, of course, there was nothing he could do.

 

''Stop that,'' he said, painfully, between gritted teeth.

''Oh, does that hurt?'' his boyfriend crooned and pushed down a little harder.

 

Instead of closing his legs against the increasing pressure like he desperately wanted to, Tony closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He tried to calm down a little, pretended he didn't feel his bladder spasm and protest against the fact that he refused to release the pressure.

 

''How much did you have to drink?'' Loki asked, drawing circles on his stomach with the tips of his fingers.

''I don't know, I– Fuck, Loki, stop, ease up, ease up!'' he begged as Loki pushed down in retaliation.

''Think. Focus. What did you drink?''

''I… Three glasses of champagne. Then a cocktail, and part of yours too. And then… then you asked me to drink some water. Shit, you _planned_ this, didn't you?''

 

Loki's smirk was an answer in itself, and Tony groaned, realizing exactly how sneaky Loki had been about it all. But then his groan turned into a whimper of pain as his boyfriend suddenly put both of his hands on him, massaging his lower stomach slowly.

 

''You know how to stop everything, right?'' he inquired in a whisper and smiled when Tony nodded. ''Okay. Then sorry for this.''

 

He didn't even have time to ask what he was talking about before the fingers on his stomach turned icy cold. He shouted, tightened his abs to try and get away. Which, of course, had the intended effect of making him forget all about the fact that he needed to clench up to avoid an accident.

The first leak was surprisingly warm in his boxers, and he whimpered, clenched up hard, and looked down. It was barely visible on his suit pants, just a tiny dot darker than the rest of the grey pants. He was panting know, the pressure turning into throbbing pain, and his knees juggled up and down.

 

''Beautiful, Tony. I bet that felt good, didn't it? Don't you want to let go a bit more?''

 

Tony shook his head vehemently but refused to open his eyes, and so it came as a surprise when the fingers left his stomach to settle on the inside of his thighs, the cold almost burning now, and he tried to resist but failed: a little leak at first became a longer trickle pooling into the seat of his pants. He swallowed thickly, focusing on Loki's harsh breathing and not on the wetness between his legs.

 

''Almost there,'' Loki whispered in a loving voice, ''almost. You should let go, love. You know you'll have to, at some point. Make the choice.''

 

He should have known that Tony was stubborn as all hell; probably _did_ know, actually. So when the genius kept shaking his head from side to side, Loki sighed, falsely disappointed, and got up gracefully. The disappearance of his weight was a blessing for a second, but it was a disguised blessing – after all, his nickname _was_ the Trickster. Fingers both warm and cold settled on his sensitive sides, between his ribs, and started teasing him mercilessly, light touches turning into heavier tickles, always unpredictable; Tony could never guess when they would settle next. With his first gasp of laughter came an unclenching of his bladder, and he startled as he felt the warm liquid trickle down his left thigh, probably leaving a dark, obvious stain on his pants.

 

''That's it,'' Loki was encouraging him, in a tone so different to the mercilessness of his fingers Tony almost wanted to laugh. ''That's exactly it, that's what I want to see, let it out, yes love, beautiful, there…''

 

A particularly vicious touch got him to let go once more, and he almost couldn't get a hold of himself this time; warm piss spurted hard, soaking his upper left thigh before he could stop it. Loki cooed, and his fingers rubbed against the wet cloth, brushed Tony's dick as they came back up.

He might have hold it a little more, he _might_ , if Loki didn't play it completely dirty. But Loki was a dirty fighter, and so he pinched his nipples between icy fingers without any remorse, and watched with hungry eyes as Tony's back arched and he finally let go.

It didn't even take ten seconds before he was a mess; he _really_ had drunk a lot, and piss came out in a powerful trickle, soaking his lap completely and turning the left side of his pants so dark it was almost black, deliciously obscene compared to the tidy grey of his mostly intact other leg. A second later, piss was dripping to the floor with a dirty noise, forming a puddle between the legs of the chair, and Tony instinctively raised his feet so only his toes touched the floor, wanting to avoid getting his socks soaked. His face was a bizarre mix of relief and shame; cheeks burning bright red with the humiliation of wetting himself, but, when he opened his eyes, pupils dilated with the feeling. It took him what felt like an atrociously long time before he was done, dick twitching with the last weak trickle of piss, and he sighed deeply, wincing as he settled back down on the soaked chair, his ass landing in a small puddle of his own pee.

 

''Holy fuck,'' he swore in an hoarse voice, and Loki could only agree, but there was one thing missing, just _one_ , and he was not known for his self-control…

''I know you are going to hate me after this,'' he said, all very quickly, hand sneaking into Tony's pants before he could react, adjusting his cock, ''just know I _am_ very sorry.''

 

And then he focused and, with a motion of his hands, Tony was stiffening up all again as his bladder filled to the brim once more, pain replacing the relief in a quarter of a second.

 

''What…'' he shuddered, tried to reach for Loki with his tied hands.

''Dirty little spell,'' Loki explained, and leaned down to push on his bladder. ''Once more for me.''

 

There wasn't anything Tony could do to stop himself this time around; he was caught off guard, and clear piss was spurting out of him before he fully realized what was happening. He moaned as his right leg got similarly soaked, back arching up against the powerful feeling of relief, and he was half-laughing, half-crying when he saw Loki jerk off right next to his face, his hands so fast it was almost a blur on his cock. He would have made a show of it, if he could have; played with the rhythm he was relieving himself, maybe. Except at this point, he _really_ was powerless, and he could only hope it was enough as it was to get Loki off. He didn't know what it was about it that made it so exciting, but he felt it himself as he looked down at his lap; the mess he was right now, powerless to do anything about it, dirtying himself like he didn't have any control on himself, did _something_ to him too.

He was almost disappointed when his bladder had finished emptying, leaving him shivering and sitting in what was, at this point, a big puddle of his own urine. He might have been ashamed, might have felt humiliated, if at this point Loki's arms didn't tighten around him, drawing him in a desperate embrace.

 

''You owe me so many orgasms,'' Tony mumbled, his voice embarrassingly shaky and unsteady, and Loki just laughed, unsteady himself, and got to work untying him.

 

He was free in a matter of seconds, and didn't even have to protest about the state he and his floor were in, because Loki snapped his fingers twice and suddenly, it was like nothing had ever happened, like he hadn't just wet himself. He looked down at his now clean pants, refusing to admit that his heart was clenching with a bit of sadness, of regret that this was already over, and took hold of Loki's hands.

 

''Bed. Now,'' he ordered, and didn't really wait to see if his boyfriend was following. He _better_ be, after this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony have some shared fun on a massage table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, chapter two of this self-indulgent thingy :)  
> I think these two could become a recurrent relationship, so if you have some place you'd want to see them have fun, or some headcanon or whatever, feel free to share!

Captain America was pure, the perfect image of the American people, the press said. Look at him, said people exclaimed, does he have any defaults?  
He's probably a virgin; no way he'd blush like that all the time if he weren't, the cynics said.  
Oh, if they only knew, Tony thought, with what probably was a slightly hysterical laugh.

''Everything okay, honey?'' Steve asked in that deep, rumbly voice of his, with the sensual tone he kept exclusively for Tony.  
''Yeah. Yeah, I…''  
''Oh. Oh, is it starting to hurt? Is that it?''  
''Mmh… Yeah, it's–''

He squirmed around on the black massage table, the unforgiving plastic squeaking slightly under his weight. He was on his stomach, Steve straddling his thighs; his warm hands roamed all over his back, his talented fingers applying pressure on every painful muscle.  
Tony's bladder was full: there was no way of denying it, no way of even ignoring it. They'd planned it for a while, booked the whole day for themselves, far from any duty, be it a business or a superheroic one. They'd started with breakfast, Steve getting a thermos of coffee ready for Tony, alongside with a big glass of freshly pressed orange juice. Then they'd spent the rest of the morning cuddling on their bed and watching a movie; Tony had drunk water steadily, a new bottle in his hands as soon as he'd gulped down the last one, not leaving him time to think about exactly how much he was drinking. After that had come lunch, soup (of course), with bread and still more water.

And now here they were, in the massage room next to the gym that was often used after particularly hard missions: they had their own physiotherapists at the ready.  
It was after one of said missions that Steve had noted how Tony looked at the plastic massage tables; he'd had to go there because his back was killing him, and Steve had followed to make sure he didn't chicken out at the last minute.  
Tony didn't know exactly what it was about the tables that made him all hot and bothered, but the thing he knew what that, since Steve had discovered his kink and they'd explored it, he'd wanted to bring it there. Maybe it was the plastic and its noise; maybe it was the feeling of being vulnerable, laying down with someone towering above him.  
He didn't really care enough about the real reason, the most important thing was that they were here, securely locked inside so no one could come in, alone in their little bubble. And that his bladder was starting to really hurt.

''Steve…'' he breathed, and squirmed around a bit more, arching back into Steve's warm hands, feeling him hard against his buttocks.  
''How does it feel, honey?"  
''It's– full. You gave me so much to drink, I'm not sure I'll be able to control it for long.''  
''So don't,'' Steve answered, and there was a smile in his voice, even if Tony couldn't see it. ''You know how good it'll feel when you let go, don't you? No need to hold back, there's just you and me here.''

Tony sighed and relaxed a bit more, keeping his bladder clenched but letting the tension go in his shoulders and back. Steve had magic hands; where his fingers went, the knots in Tony's muscles suddenly disappeared.

''Wanna enjoy it a bit more,'' he mumbled, and smiled at Steve's chuckle. ''It feels too good.''  
''I always forget how much you like it, honey. You don't even like it; you love it, don't you?Love being so vulnerable… knowing that at some point, you won't have any choice but to let go, because I won't let you get away from it.''  
''Love you for that,'' Tony said, and he was panting just a bit, his legs shaking slightly. ''Wouldn't be the same without you. You have no idea how glad I am you like it too.''  
''How couldn't I, Tony? Seeing you like that, how relaxed and ready to let me do anything to you, how could I refuse that?''

He moaned, clenched against the sudden wave of pressure in his bladder.

''But you like being at my place too, right? Big, strong Captain America, I bet you like letting go of all these responsibilities for a little while.''  
''You're the only one I trust enough to let go, Tony.''

Then Steve was leaning down, his whole body hot on Tony's back, until his mouth settled on his neck, kissing up and up, reaching the corner of Tony's lips, and licking at it playfully.

''But I think if you can still speak this well, I'm not doing my job properly, mister.''

And then the same hand that had been massaging him softly was sneaking under his stomach and settling over his navel, the pressure present but not quite painful yet, Steve's warmth radiating all over. He moved his hand around in circles, the tips of his fingers a bit ticklish on Tony's side.

''Steve…''  
''What do you think, honey, is it time to let go?''  
''Don't wanna,'' he mumbled, like a sulky teenager, and it only managed to make his boyfriend laugh, a husky sound that Tony adored.  
''But you will.''  
''Yeah. Yeah, I– I will. Just for you, though, right?''

Steve hummed affirmatively, and increased the pressure, just a tiny amount, but that, added to the fact that Tony simply wanted to let go, had waited long enough, wanted to live this feeling all over again, all of this was enough for him to let the first spurt of pee out with a deep sigh of contentment.  
Steve's other hand quickly sneaked to his briefs, finding it a bit wet on the front, and he moaned, a sound that never missed to make Tony feel proud.

''I bet you'll look gorgeous when you'll be finished,'' he whispered, nosing at Tony's neck, his breath hot and ticklish on the short hair there, ''you won't have any choice but to lie in it, get really wet and messy all over…''

And Tony longed to see this, to feel it on his skin; knowing Steve wanted it, too, was enough of an incentive to release his bladder once more, longer this time, enough to hear the sound the trickle made as it hit the plastic under him. It pooled there; there wasn't enough yet for it to fall to the floor, and Tony couldn't resist, he squirmed around, getting his underwear properly wet, encouraged by Steve's presence and hums of approval.

''You should see yourself right now,'' his boyfriend was saying, and his voice was definitely hoarse now. ''You're beautiful, you always are, but right now? I don't think I've ever see you so relaxed, honey, so content. Come on, let go of the rest, I know you have some more for me.''

At first, Tony had wanted to control the flow, so to say, to let go only in tiny amounts, but when he relaxed for the third time, the sheer quantity of liquid he'd drunk made itself known, and he was unable to stop, barely able to go slow and draw it out to enjoy it as it was.  
And it was enjoyable; at first, his pee pooled just under him, soaked the front of his boxers and wet the back, just a bit, gravity playing against it. The table was waterproof, and it didn't soak any of his pee. Instead, it formed a growing puddle that was warm against Tony's stomach and Steve's hands, until it simply became to much and started running to the side, slowly trickling down to the cold tiles floor.  
The sound of it was so dirty, so primal, it made Tony whimper, and Steve groan in answer. Just for fun, Tony pushed down, his slow trickle turning into a powerful spurt, and this noise was better still, a pure, raw expression of letting go. The result glinted on the dark plastic, tiny drops in some place, trails of wetness leading to the sides in other. If Tony had turned his head, he could have seen the two puddles that were forming at the feet of the table, so pale they seemed almost transparent, but as it was, he kept his eyes closed, focusing on what he was feeling.  
He couldn't really describe it; not to someone who hadn't ever tried it, at least. It was content and shame mixed into the same thing; a deeply satisfied feeling of a need fulfilled with the knowledge he wasn't supposed to do that. More than anything, the feeling of the pain subsiding and becoming only a low, background pressure was profoundly satisfying, the same feeling that when you drank a big glass of iced water after a day spent into the heat, or when you finally sat down after hours spent hiking.  
It took some time – he really had been full – but at the end his trickle stopped, and the slow but steady sound of liquid falling to the ground became an intermittent noise of drops added to the quite impressive puddle. Steve was still there, of course he was, his breathing heavy and fast, his hands soaked where they'd been resting under Tony. They didn't move for a long time; at some point, it would start getting uncomfortable, stinky and cold on their skin, and they'd need to clean up, the room and themselves, get rid of the smell so no one would start getting suspicious. For now, though, they simply enjoyed what they had: each other, not judging, a relationship full of trust and mutual fun and respect.  
Really, cleaning up could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments?


End file.
